


You'd Look Better in a Tiara

by GhostIsReading



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bargaining, Blood Quill (Harry Potter), Bonding, Hermione Granger Bashing, Its a tiara not a diadem, M/M, Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem, courting, fight me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:01:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26219044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostIsReading/pseuds/GhostIsReading
Summary: Harry is in his fifth year during Umbridge's reign of terror and finds refuge in the Room of Requirements. He had discovered a tiara by chance. It changes his life.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 12
Kudos: 321
Collections: Knockturn Tricks or Diagon Treats





	You'd Look Better in a Tiara

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [KnockturnTricksOrDiagonTreats](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/KnockturnTricksOrDiagonTreats) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Treat: Tiara

Harry was angry. He was almost constantly angry this year but could you blame him? He was being called a liar and a lunatic. Not to mention Umbitch and her stupid Blood Quill. She had once more kept him late in detention and he honestly didn’t want to return to the common room where Hermione and Ron would fuss at him. Telling him to stop antagonising her or to tell someone. Hah! As if he hasn’t tried that! Not to mention he wasn’t the only victim of her evil quill and if she kept her attention on him then she was less likely going to go after another first year. Harry had tried telling McGonagall and was just told to keep his head down! 

He was pacing and grumbling to himself on the seventh floor opposite an ugly tapestry of a ballet dancing troll when a door suddenly appeared, shocking him out of his current rage. He blinked surprised at the door before shrugging, he honestly had nothing to lose at this point and if he died from opening a suspicious door in Hogwarts then so be it. 

Once he was inside the room he could see piles and piles of junk. They were more like mountains and they reached the high ceiling and seemed to span for miles. It was amazing! With his mood now much higher than it was earlier, Harry stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Screw going back to the common room, where he didn’t want to go anyway, he was going to sort through some of this stuff. Who knows, he could end up finding some really cool stuff. 

So he wandered around for a bit, poking at some things and avoiding others. He was careful not to take anything that would cause the mountains of stuff to fall over, the last thing he wanted was to be buried alive in a room that he would never be found in. He also tried not to get his blood on anything. He hadn’t bothered wrapping his wound and so it was bleeding quite freely but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Then he found a really old, discoloured tiara near a chipped bust of an ugly warlock. Now, Harry normally didn’t care about such things but there was something about that tiara that drew him in. Before he even noticed he was picking it up and smearing some of his blood on the sapphire gem that sat at the centre of its design. 

As soon as his blood touched the gemstone a black cloud appeared and formed into a man. If anyone was to ask, Harry would deny screaming rather loudly at the sight. He promptly threw the tiara away from himself but it was too late. The black cloud was forming a stable shape and it was almost like a ghost. 

“Rude.” The spectral form smirked. 

Harry just stared. It was Voldemort, or well Tom Riddle. He was older than he was in the Chamber of Secrets but wasn’t the snake face of today. He was speechless. 

“Hello.” The Spectral form of Tom Riddle greeted him as if his counterparts hadn’t tried to kill him several times. It was at that point that Harry snapped. 

“Just one year!” He yelled, throwing his hands up. “I would just like one year where someone isn’t out to kill me, where I’m not vilified by the students and the Defence teacher isn't shit. It clearly isn’t enough that I am dealing with a snake faced Voldemort and now I have somehow discovered another memory version of him as well?!” He ranted, not paying attention to said memory. “I have enough problems outside of Hogwarts with my abusive relatives and Hogwarts itself isn’t the safehaven that I thought it would be.”

“Abuse?” Tom Riddle Memory No. 2 echoed. 

“Oh yes, not that anyone would believe it! After all I’m the so-called Boy Who Lived and therefore I must obviously be spoiled to bits at home. Hah! Like hell. I didn’t even know that magic existed until a giant literally knocked down my door. Oh my relatives tried their best to beat it out of me but obviously failed. Then when I finally think I’m free from them, I discover that I’m a freak of a different kind. Survived an unsurvivable curse and the murderer of my family. Not that said Murderer was actually dead like most thought, oh no he was riding on the back of the head of my first year DADA teacher!”

“The back of the head of…” 

“That's not all though. Dumbbells thought it was a brilliant idea to hide the famous Philosopher’s Stone that could potentially give the bastard a body in the school-”

“My parents were married.” Riddle interrupted but Harry ignored him. 

“So at the end of my first year I ended up facing my parents’ murderer and killing the possessed teacher. And what did I receive? Not therapy, that I can tell you! Oh no, the Boy Who Lived was rewarded for his heroism! Patted on the head, told I was exaggerating about my relatives abuse and sent straight back to them.” He was panting now and pacing as he waved his arms about and ranted. “And that was just my first year!”

“Surely things got better?” Riddle asked tentatively. 

“Better? Better?! Hah I wish! In my second year, someone opened the Chamber of Secrets and was petrifying students and of course I happened to be outed as a Parselmouth and therefore evil and the Heir of Slytherin and the one behind everything! Turns out it was a memory of Voldemort that was possessing a student. I ended up killing a basilisk, almost dying from its venom, killing said memory and freeing a house elf.”

“You killed the basilisk when you were twelve?” 

“Yes, then in the next year my godfather, who was apparently evil and the betrayer of my parents, had escaped prison to kill me. So there were Dementors at Hogwarts which by the way made me relive my parents' deaths. In the end, it turned out that he was framed by another friend who escaped after the DADA teacher, who was a werewolf and apparently also a friend of my parents that I also had never heard about, transformed and attacked us. Then there was this whole time turner thing to save everyone and ugh it was so complicated and no adult helped and I as the child did the saving and I’m so tired!” 

“You have certainly lived an interesting life.” 

“Last year the snake face came back. He killed another student in front of me before having his servant and the betrayer of my parents, used my blood in a ritual that gave him back his body. This came after a year long tournament that I was un-willingly entered into. I was also tortured.” 

“Then you were sent back to your abusive relatives.” Riddle continued for him. 

“Correct. Then Dementors showed up on my street during the holidays and I had to save my cousin using the Patronus Charm which I then got expelled for underage magic. Had a huge trial, found out that my friends, who had been ignoring me all summer, were hanging out with my fugitive godfather. I was let off the charges after some proof was provided but the pink toad that was present at the trial is now the DADA professor here. She can’t teach and she’s using a Blood Quill on students and no other teacher will let me even finish explaining why I don't like her and I’m just so tired.” Harry threw himself onto the floor and stared up at the ceiling. 

“If you get me a body, I’ll fix everything.” Riddle suddenly declared. 

“You must be joking!” Harry stared at him in disbelief. “Firstly why on earth would you want to help me? And secondly, how would I be able to trust that you wouldn’t just join up with your older self and cause more trouble?” 

“Because I feel somewhat responsible for some of your problems.”

“That's because you are.” 

He ignored Harry and continued. “You also intrigue me, you have been through so much and yet you haven’t given up, it's remarkable. As for trusting me not to join my ‘older self’ as you called him, I am willing to swear on my magic.” 

That made Harry pause. It was a rather serious thing to do and as this Riddle was currently just a memory it was probably the only thing he could swear on. Was he really going to consider this? Joining up with a memory of Riddle to kill Voldemort? Or rather helping a memory of Tom Riddle gain a body so that they can kill Voldemort. How would Harry get Riddle a body anyway? If he remembered correctly the diary version was draining Ginny dry, it would mean that Harry would be deliberately murdering someone. Was he really capable of doing that? Umbitches face flashed before his eyes. Yes he was. 

“Okay,” Harry nodded, catching Riddle by surprise. “Make the vow first.”

“And how may I ask, are you going to get me a body?” Riddle asked as he sort of floated closer. 

“Your diary version was draining the lifeforce of a friend’s sister. Surely you can do the same?”

“Are you willing to have someone’s death on your conscience?”

“I know exactly who to give you to.” He smiled but it wasn’t a nice one. It was all teeth and bloodthirsty. It was probably similar to the sinister look that the goblins had when they grinned, it was quite frightening.

“Very well.” Riddle grinned back and made the vow. “I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, do swear on my magic that I will not join up with the version of myself or any version of myself that goes by the name of Voldemort. So mote it be.” 

“So mote it be.” There was a flash of white as magic accepted the vow. 

“All you have to do now is give my diadem to-”

“I’m sorry, your what?” Harry interrupted confused. 

“My diadem.” 

“What’s a diadem?”

“The pretty head piece that you’ve bled all over.” Riddle pointed at the tiara. 

“Oh you mean the tiara.” Harry nodded. “Okay continue.”

“It’s not a- whatever.” Riddle sighed. “Give the  _ ‘tiara’ _ ” He grimaced at the word. “To someone you hate or wouldn’t mind dead and I will take care of the rest.” 

“Alright.” Harry agreed. “Do you now go back in or?” 

Riddle chuckled and then vanished leaving Harry alone again. 

Before heading to bed that night Harry attached the tiara, he refused to call it a diadem, to an owl with a fake note from Fudge. 

Umbridge was found dead a week later. No one cried over her loss and the entirety of the school body breathed a sigh of relief. Things seemingly went back to normal or as normal as things got at Hogwarts. Then Harry received a parcel at breakfast two months later. 

Harry stared blankly at the parcel. It looked big enough to fit an inflated football and was rather heavy. He wondered briefly about how the owl managed to carry it before Hermione started to squawk in his ear. 

“Who is that from? Were you expecting anything? It could be cursed, you should let a teacher check it-” And on she continued. Harry just ignored her and opened the letter that was attached. 

_ Dearest Harry.  _

_ I hope things are easier at Hogwarts now that the pink toad is gone. I have missed you terribly since I last saw you but I have been busy dealing with the snake infestation that you mentioned. I have succeeded and with this gift I hope to ask your permission to court you.  _

_ Forever yours (if you’ll have me),  _

_ Marvolo S.  _

Harry’s eyes went wide at the note and he quickly slid it into his pocket while Hermione was still trying to flag down a teacher. Hopefully no one would have noticed the note. He with eager fingers ripped into the parcel and carefully opened the box. Inside was Voldemort’s head. 

There was a lot of screaming and the parcel was confiscated. Harry was interrogated and interriaged. No, there was no note, he told them. No, he didn’t know who sent it. For hours they asked him again and again. He never gave them any other answers. He didn’t think they believed him. 

“Harry, my boy.” Dumbledore looked at him over his spectacles. “I believe that this is just another ploy by Voldemort.” 

“But sir,” Harry protested. “That was clearly Voldemort’s head.” 

“Ah a lot of things can be fabricated with Magic, Harry.” 

Then he was dismissed. 

If Harry did an interview on the sly about the parcel and the head then well, it was too late to stop him by the time it was published. Dumbledore came under fire for hiding the fact that a decapitated head had been sent to a student. It kept him busy enough not to notice Harry sending out a letter. 

_ Dear Marv,  _

_ If you send me the head of Peter Pettigrew aka Wormtail then I’ll agree to the courtship.  _

_ Potentially yours,  _

_ Harry.  _

A week later Harry got another parcel. It was indeed Wormtail's head. Cue a repeat of what happened the first time but this time the DMLE got involved and Harry was able to tell them about the fact that his Godfather was innocent. 

Harry wore the tiara to his bonding and Sirius walked him down the aisle as a free man. 

**The End.**


End file.
